So I Can Fly With You
by TakemetotheSea
Summary: Cas needs a ride...to a tattoo parlor? Dean gets angry. Feathers ensue. Inspired by this post:


Cas has been human for a few days. Dean has seen to it that he adjusted to normal people things, like eating and sleeping and doing up buttons and washing clothes, but other, like crying and allergies are harder to explain. Cas refuses to wear anything but Dean's clothes, so they share what barely counts as a wardrobe, all worn out tee-shirts and dirty jeans. Dean buys Cas a belt to keep his jeans on the smaller man's hips. When he first experiences the human sensation of exhaustion, Cas falls asleep wrapped in one of Dean's old shirts, and from then on cannot fall asleep without it. This Cas reminds Dean of a small child learning how to sleep in a real bed for the first time, or tie his own shoes.

"Dean I need you to drop me off somewhere." Cas requests one morning.

Dean responds through a mouthful of pancakes, "alright man, where do you need to go?"

"I will show you where the shop is."

"Nice, we finally getting you some clothes of your own so you stop stealing mine?"

"No Dean, I would like to keep wearing your things. They give me some measure of…comfort."

"Oh…yeah, sure" Dean coughs at Castiel's frankness, and to head off more emotional talk suggests, "let's head out."

As they drive Dean quizzes Cas on basic mechanics and rules of roads and cars. If Cas is human, Dean may as well teach him something truly useful, and to Dean what could be more useful than first, driving, and second, really understanding cars.

"Take a right here" Cas instructs and they round the corner and turn off of main street in the little town of Dovecott.

Dovecott is old, and "famously" haunted by ghosts and their legends. Sam and Dean had passed through here long ago and loved the town for it's single real ghost needing to be put to rest (they had expected hundreds), and then, for its quirky charm and fantastic pie at the Tea Hollow. The people didn't ask questions, and the pie was always warm. When the brothers needed a place to bring their fallen angel, this seemed almost like home.

The town tended draws a young, alternative crowd to its walks, and Dean wonders what the hell Cas could be shopping for here. Even human Cas doesn't strike Dean as being a part of the hemp and tie-dye wearing group that frequents the stores and coffee shops of Dovecott.

They pull onto the narrow side street and come to the solitary building near the end of it. The shop faces old railroad tracks and the rivers, and the building fits both the alternative and the historical reputations of the town.

"Here is fine, I will call you when I am finished" Cas says as he goes to get out of the Impala.

Dean looks up and reads aloud "Ghosttown tattoos…dude, what the hell?"

"Yes Dean?" Cas says, puzzled.

"What, in God's name, am I doing dropping you off at a tattoo parlor?"

"Well, you are fulfilling my request to drive me somewhere, that is what you are doing."

"No you moron, are you seriously about to get a tattoo?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes Dean"

"You idiot. Do you know how bad tattoos hurt?"

"Dean pain does not frighten me. I assure you I have felt much worse. I am going in now."

"Like hell you are. Let me park, I'll be right there. Don't go in without me."

Dean parks and slams the door with shaking hands. Shaking from what, fear? Anger? Dean isn't really sure. He isn't really sure why he's demanding to go with Cas either, other than a completely overwhelming urge to protect him, keep his stupid feathery ass from doing something idiotic.

The two men walk in together and Dean wonders how Cas plans to show ID to even get a tattoo. Dean keeps meaning to make him some IDs, but they've been so exhausted for the past few days, all the men have done is sleep and eat.

"Hey guys, what can I do for you?" a petite brunette greets them. She has a face that rivals an angel's, and a voice to match, with every inch of skin visible from the neck down covered in tattoos. Dean notes that she strangely resembles Cas, and that she is extremely hot.

"I would like a tattoo today please" Cas says assertively.

"Well, you're in luck my friend, we are completely free" the woman answers him. "I'm Crystal, and that's Connell back there." The tall, athletic looking guy with the Mohawk waves from the back of the shop.

"Let's get some ID from you and Connell will start your paperwork while we talk."

Dean stares as Cas hands over a driver's license. _Well, Sam's been more responsible then me these past few days. _

"Great Mr. Winchester, we'll get started. Can I call you Castiel? Sick name by the way"

Dean freezes _Winchester. Castiel Winchester._ Cas didn't use his vessel's last name. Or a fake first name. But his name. And Dean's last name. That feathery git was either seriously stupid, or seriously traumatized to have to do that.

"So what were you thinking" Chrystal asked Cas.

Dean starts, _what was Cas thinking?_ he wonders to himself. Dean hadn't even thought of what Cas was planning on inking onto his body. An anti-possession tattoo, like Sam and Dean's? A bible verse?

"I want wings." Cas says, but his voice breaks on the last word.

Dean's jaw drops. _Oh._

"Alright great" Crytal answered. "Where, how big, what style? Let's get some details going here and I'll sketch something up."

"No sketches please, I just want you to draw. I want wings, as realistic as possible, across my shoulders and arms. As large and as close to angel wings as you can make them."

Dean doesn't think his heart can to take any more shocks from Cas.

"Wow that's a pretty big project, and free reign for me is ambitious, but if you're sure that means we can start right now. It's gonna take some time and hurt like a bitch, but you seem pretty set."

Dean grabs Cas's arm and pulls him aside. "Dude, wings? Gigantic feathery wings all over your back? A little much for a first tattoo, dontcha think? Why?"

A pause, and then "I want to fly, Dean."

And just like that, Dean's heart is gone. Cracked, shattered, and blown to pieces. He rips of his shirt, pulls out his wallet and shoves his ID into Chrystal's stunned hands.

"Put me down too then, two idiots, four wings" Dean growls.

Cas's eyes are huge, scared, and confused. He looks at Dean with a quizzical look, the curious head tilt that had always graced Castiel's face when Dean did something particularly puzzling.

Dean lets out the breath he had been holding in and whispers, only for Cas, "So I can fly with you."

Cas doesn't speak. But puts his hand over the scar on Dean's shoulder.

Chrystal realizes that this is something beyond a tattoo, and beyond a spur-of-the-moment set of wings to decorate a back. She gets ready quietly and when the papers are signed and the workstations set up, Connell to mark Dean, and Chrystal Cas, she turns the two chairs face-to-face. "You two are probably gonna need each other for this. I'm sorry, this is going to hurt."

Somewhere in the blur of buzzing and ink and pain Cas grabs Dean's wrist. Instead of a "told you this was gonna suck" Dean laces the fingers of both of his hands through Cas's, propping their elbows up on a bench between them. Face to face, palm to palm, Dean teaches Cas something else human. "Squeeze my hands Cas" he murmurs to his angel. "When it hurts, squeeze, as hard as you need to." Dean's body has been abused and beaten and torn and inked, and even if this tattoo hurts, Dean can't feel it because he is focused on the face and hands in front of him. Cas opens his eyes, laser blue meeting Dean's sparkling green, and squeezes.

Hours later, Chrystal and Connell step back. "Alright guys, you're done, there are mirrors all over, take a look." She wipes one last smudge off of Castiel's shoulder and drags Connell away from the men and into the next room.

Instead of pulling his hand away, Dean switches his grip and pulls a boneless Cas to his feet. "C'mon, you're ok, you're great, it's beautiful, you want to see this" he murmurs as he coaxes Cas to a mirror. He stands Cas with his back to a large mirror and steadies him "you're gonna stay standing for me for two seconds alright?"

Dean lets go to grab a smaller mirror and places it in the exhausted angel's hands. Dean drags a stool over, sits in front of Cas, and holds his waist to steady the smaller man while he stands.

Cas's face when he looks into the mirror to see his wings holds the emotion of centuries and the pain of eons. A single tear courses down his face to drop off of his chin. But with the tear comes a divine fire to Cas's eyes that Dean has not seen since Cas fell.

Cas's shoulders, upper back, and upper arm are covered in a blanket of feathers. They are black and glossy, large and powerful looking. They burst off of Cas's skin as if about to spring from his back and beat at the air.

Wordless, Cas pulls Dean up to replace him, and drops onto the stool. He hands Dean his mirror and rests his head against Dean's chest, too emotional to do much else.

Where Cas's wings are dark and powerful, Dean's are light and hopeful. They are redemption. They are longer, and the feathers thinner. To Dean, they look gold, to Cas, they remind him of pure white feathers and glistening flight.


End file.
